Loves her too.
‘Caterina…’ My voice is hoarse and I don’t know what I’m trying to say. It feels as if a bucket of ice water has been emptied over my head and I struggle to breathe through the shock. And I know it’s true, it’s always been true.
I fell in love with her the moment I saw her in the pool, floating on her back, like a mermaid. Or maybe even before that, when I married her, and I realised the worth of the woman I’d just kidnapped.
I thought Stefano had killed all love and light in my life, and yet it’s here in my stone of a heart, a new tendril curling hopefully towards the sun. And as I accept that it’s there, it comes to me.
It was never sending her away that made me not like my father.
It was loving her. Because he didn’t know the meaning of the word.
But Caterina taught me what it meant and what it felt like. Love was her kissing the scars on my back and that look in her eyes and everything she is. Love is the warrior spirit within her, the perfect match for the wolf in me.
Love is the way she’s looking at me right now and refusing to leave me, challenging me the way she’s always done right from the first.
And me… I can never resist her challenge.
Without a word I turn from her and go to my desk, pull open a drawer and take out the box I had in there for safekeeping. Then I turn back to her. She’s watching me, still fierce, her posture tense as if she’s expecting me to keep fighting.
But I’m not. I’m done. My littlegattinahas won.
Keeping my gaze pinned to hers, I go down on one knee and hold up the box. ‘Caterina Salvatore,’ I say formally. ‘Will you do me the honour of being my wife?’
Shock flickers over her face. ‘What do you mean?’
‘I’m tired,gattina.I’m tired of fighting,tired of pretending. I’m tired of trying to escape the shadow my father cast and I’m tired of being afraid.’
Her eyes widen. ‘Vincenzo…’
‘I’m afraid I’m not worthy of you, Caterina,’ I say, suddenly as fierce as she is. ‘But I want to be. And I realise that you’re right, I’mnotStefano, and I know I’m not him, because he didn’t know what love is. But I do. Because you showed me.’
She swallows, staring at me and I see the tears that fill her eyes.
I rise to my feet, open the box and take out the emerald rings that are still in there. The rings that were always meant for her. And I take her hand and slide them one by one onto her finger. ‘I love you,’ I say quietly. ‘Be my wife. Stay with me. Don’t ever leave me.’
She doesn’t speak, giving me her answer as she goes up on her toes and presses her mouth to mine.
This time when I reach for her, I don’t let her go.
And I never will again.
Epilogue
Caterina
ISIT ONa blanket in the shade of the great oak tree that holds court on the rolling lawns of our estate, watching as Vincenzo picks up our three-year-old son, Nico, and tosses him into the air. He’s getting too big for these games, but Nico loves it and so does my husband, who indulges him every moment he can get.
I’m holding our new daughter, Elena, who is gazing up at me with her father’s big silver eyes. She already has him wrapped around her tiny finger, which is exactly as it should be.
It’s been five years since we left Sicily. Vincenzo and I brought the families to heel and made them agree to a truce. Then we did some succession planning. We both wanted to get away from the never-ending arguments and petty disagreements of the families, go somewhere safe to raise children together. But Vincenzo needed to be sure that the Argenti legacy he fought for would remain, and so he called the wider Argenti family to a meeting, informing them that while he would remain as head of the family, he would need someone to act for him in Italy.
He found someone—a distant cousin—who will act on his behalf, while he keeps an eye on the Argentis from a distance. We now live in England, in a beautiful country estate in the Cotswolds, which suits us perfectly.
Vincenzo arranged himself a new identity to protect us from any unwanted family attention and now goes by the name of Vincent Castle. I call him Vinny, just to annoy him.
My Wolf comes over to where I’m sitting with our son tucked under his arm. He puts Nico down and then sits beside me, looking down at our daughter, his silver eyes alight with love.
‘I had a thought,’ he says, reaching down to touch Elena’s cheek with a gentle finger.
